Found a man washed up on the river
by Minooshka
Summary: A centaur by the name of Arthur, immortal and centuries old, finds a man washed up on the shores of a river of Avalon. Tending to the boy, he becomes aware of the unbearable concept of 'solitude' and the limitations of his form. Is there a way they can be reunited ? AU, USUK. Rated T for mature love concepts & tragedy. (Story Completed, Apr7: Will get spellchecked soon).
1. Chapter 1

**Found a man washed up on the river. Chapter 2**

Based off an artwork piece of the same name by ~stupidlilgirl

* * *

_**Author notes: **_

_2/3 part._

_I am revising this story I have posted elsewhere and once I am done each chapter I will reposted it here. _

_I've never had a beta-reader or editor before. If any of you know how to get one or those things are done... please PM me! I need an english1-st language person to correct my horrible french-minded grammar._

* * *

**o0o**

Feeble leaves, unhinged by the wind from giants, drifted down from the canopy of the old growth forest. Ancient by the time men had brought stone upon stone, carving proof of their existence on the landscape. Dreaming. Leaving traces for their young and their children's children. Testament that they had briefly existed. Nothing compared to the verdant green eternity that was this place.

One day, in the futur, the island forest would be known as Glastonbury. A part of the kingdom of Whales. Surrounded by marshland and a regular mysterious fogs veiling the place from most explorers. The creatures that would pass the haze surrounding the isle knew it by another name; Avalon.

Of all the beings that resided in Avalon, the one which was most human was a fey-creature who had travelled from the Mediterranean far in the south-east. Where there was a warm and temperate sea and it was called Centaur there. With steady horse hooves, and gentle human hands, the centaur known as Arthur tended the wounds of those creatures that fell prey to the marsh predators surrounding the isle. Kept at bay by the mists from entering, yet drawn to the mystic energies that made Avalon home.

The legendary myst was the main reason the area had not yet been tamed by humans. Arthur knew humans had arrived and settled 'Ynysoedd Prydain'* for many centuries now. He had met and spoken to many immortals in Avalon. All worried of the day their haven and last sanctuary would end.

The one immortal he found the most peculiar by far, was the elusive human-linked being that claimed a bond to both the land and to the human communities that had settled the area. She looked like a small girl introducing herself as 'Britannia'. Centuries had past now and she was a young woman, although rugged, rough and as wild as Arthur at times in temperment. He would know! He had raised her partially. Teaching her magic and how to fend for herself. The only thing he had ever lacked in finesse was cooking. Not being a woman, his dietary needs being very plain and simple. Why bother? He was half-horse after all!

Just as he took care of other creatures of Avalon he had done so for the little girl walking the outskirts of Whales one day. Though she came and went at he leisure he was loath to admit he missed the company. Unlike many of the others immortals, he spoke and was a social creature.

"There there, nothing to fret m'boy. You just sprained the muscle here is'all."

The hybrid horse-man addressed the pure white pelted creature that nipped gently at his shoulder in gratitude. Perhaps it was that he shared a kinship being an equine. A unicorn would not normally approach other beasts of the woods. This was of course, an old friend...

"Uni. You know better than to travel from Scotland to visit me during the night."

Affectionately, the sandy blonde centaur scratched the junction of the horned horses' shoulder, just behind the scruff of its mane.

The molten gold eyes blinked once, gently lolling its head in good humour. Letting the humanoid rub the rest of some kind of salve on the junction of its front right ankle. The centaur would always look as a human in his prime. In truth he was much older and had seen many things before settling in the isles.

Arthur was tending his friend in a glade. A small brook of water bubbled next to them as the hybrid tended the unicorn's wounds. Once finished, he washed his hands in the water and closed the simple pottery jar, packing it back into a ruck-sack he carried on his back. Hoisting himself up on all 4s he hit the ground with a hoof hard and twitched his flanks to get rid of twigs and leaves sticking to his fur. Swishing his tail to do much the same for the long locks. Craning his neck slightly he grunted as he stretched. He was due for a wash and brush.

"Well, I was off fishing old friend until I saw you limping around. Fine state you got yourself into fighting those Kelpies off I bet! Those misbegotten toads aren't satisfied with the occasional hog anymore, they've been picking on the ducks lately as well. Good luck catching those birds."

Arthur smiled, guiding his friend to his old log hut. It was, for obvious reason, a few feet higher than a normal hut with no wooden floors. Sand covered the hard compacted earth. No beds nor chairs to speak of furnished the place, other than a round table at its centre. Towards a corner, there was a soft and clean cut grass pile with woollen blankets hanging on pegs. Certain areas were separated by a woven reed mat. Creating lines between what might be a the kitchen area, bedroom of sorts and a pantry of herbs with what may be foodstuff in barrels. Simple accommodations made of clays, bone, stone and wood furnished the rest of the place, including a stone and mortar oven. Nothing of Iron would be found here. It was anathema for a creature of the forest such as himself to use the metals of man.

"I'll be back later. I know you don't care of me partaking the flesh of animals and neither do I really... if I can help it. But I do require it. Fish is pushing it." Forgetting himself momentarily, Arthur waved goodbye.

A very human-like gesture that meant nothing to the teeth clenched slightly as the white creature looked at him confused and peculiarly at his gesture. He had spent too much time with Britannia. Of all the immortals, the nation (as she called herself) was the most human. While he held no particular grudges for his simple 2 legged mortal counterparts. He had no particular fondness for them either. It had been one of the reasons he had travelled so far from the Mediterranean. They were only interested in his great knowledge on war tactics or too obsessed in the novelty of speaking to an odd creature to make any real lasting friendships.

(That is until ...)

After having caught a few fish from his usual spot, an area where the river wove through the ancient forest opening to the sea. He had been walking along its edges, picking plants to create a poultice for Uni when he came upon a boy.

Well perhaps more accurately; a young man. Washed up on the river's shores.

"What in the blazes are you doing here?"

Arthur had a tendency to speak to himself. Whith so few creatures that could answer back the centaur would often forget how to speak when he truly needed it. He had developed the bad habit of mumbling to no one in particular.

Basket of herbs and fish in hand, the hybrid horse walked through the shallow waters to the other bank. Skittishly approaching the human boy. He had not spoken or seen a human for at least a whole century now. The last one he had ever lain eyes upon wore mostly furs, leathers or wool. This one... wore something that looked like wool, but could not possible be that. It was fine. He could not even make out the weave of the fabric. His lower half was submerged in the water and he looked to be unconscious or sleeping. Otherwise unharmed, if not a little too pale at first glance.

"Hey! Lad, are you quite alright?"

The human didn't answer. He trotted closer and set down his catch on the bank. Hesitantly he lay a hand on the boy. He was incredibly cold. Was he dead?

No. His chest rose up and down.

"What a bother! Two wounded in a day. Carried by the currents from the sea no doubt. If that dried brine in your hair is of any indication. How you managed to wash ashore without being eaten by seadogs is beyond me!"

Arthur paused, startled. Glancing up into the ancient canopy of Avalon. A breeze had picked up. The leaves rustled, waking up the forest. For a moment, the centaur seemed othered by something, he closed his eyes and cocking his head to the side as if listening. Relaxing minutely.

His thick eyebrows furrowed in annoyance suddenly

"Fine! fine! I'll do if since you went through all that trouble." He spoke to something unseen. Maybe he was simply going insane.

Picking up the boy and draping him over his own back awkwardly he picked his way carefuly through the forest and made his way back home.

o0o

"Oh don't look at me like that! You know I can't keep myself from guilt, leaving someone wounded behind."

And by someone, Arthur meant; anything remotely alive.

He spoke to birds. He certainly spoke to squirrels. As well as the occasional faeries and of course Unicorns. Uni snorted, shaking its mane. Arthur suspected it was more or less because the uniquely spiral horned equine had been robbed of his hay-pile and would have to sleep outside. The mythical creature had nothing to complain about. It usually slept outside anyways!

"He's going to be feverish. What with him being waterlogged for goodness knows how long! I better make some medicin and get him out of those soggy clothes."

The centaur was strong and had no problems lifting the human man who did not wake up at any point during his manipulations. While he undressed the lad, he checked for other wounds and injuries. He found one just under the boys left mid torso. A large bruise which he gently touched. Yes, definitely some bruising on those ribs, yet nothing broken that he could tell. It would simply hurt healing for the next month.

"Tsk, what a state. How did you get here lad?"

While he worked, the unicorn, mildly interested, watched him. Until its whimsical nature caught up to it and it left Arthur's house scampering elsewhere in Avalon. Perhaps to catch up with other friends or acquaintances of the mystic woods?

The boy was fair looking and gentle on the eyes. Blonde haired and pale skinned. Even if they were not of the same kind, the centaur would often fantasize about being accepted by a human village. Teaching what he knew of nature, living a life where he could talk and entertain pleasant conversations about philosophy, the stars and fate.

He had tried. Many times.

The attempts he had made, all failing. Since he did not age, humans became disillusioned with him or dependant on his help. His relation with them would all ended badly and he would be force to leave.

Sighing through his nostrils, the sound very horse-like. Arthur dressed the boy in the longest woollen shirt he owned. He would wear cloths in the winter since his upper torso did not grow its own fur. He was a mediterranean native after all!

The stranger mumbled. Arthur froze. The boy shuffled slightly then subsided into sleep instead of unconsciousness. Laying the boy down onto his 'bed' of hay, he stood back up on all 4s to fix himself and the boy tea.

Starting a fire was easy, so was dipping a ladle in a large clay pot which held fresh water to the side of his kitchenette to fill a clay kettle. He lay the pot on top of the foyer and fanned the flames with his hand gently.

The centaur's green eyes darted momentarily back and forth between gutting the fish, to the wounded human. He wondered if he was warm enough with the fire now going and the long woollen garment.

"Avalon seems to find you important boy. Enough it actually decided to speak to me. Otherwise I might have just simply left you there..."

Arthur pretended to be politely waiting for an answer. Of course the boy could not respond but nothing excused bad manners. He needed to practice interacting before he would be force to do it soon enough.

"What am I to do with you afterwards? If you went and blabbed this place's existence, your kind would come here in droves!" He lifted a leg and exasperatedly brought it down in annoyance, hoof clunking on the ground underneath the clean sand and tail swishing also while he fret.

The half horseman checked the water in his pot. Seeing it was boiling, he lifted it with a forked branch. Placing it on a flat stone in the centre of his table.

Stepping gingerly around his place. Arthur passed a finger along a whole wall of suspended dried plants and vases full of much of the same. Selecting a few specimens, ripping a few of their leaves he grabbed a mortal stone near the whole mess. Returning to the table, with centuries of practice, he expertly ground the leaves and roots. Intermittently touching the clay teapot, checking its temperature. Boiling water could ruin the potency of the roots he was using. Eventually, he spooned the crushed concoction into a clay cup and poured the liquid into it. He had set aside different leaves for himself and simply kept them aside for his own cup, dousing them with water as well.

There was a groan.

"Are you waking up lad?" The centaur did not turn from his work, simply poured the infusion.

"Mmmnnnn whhaa...where?" Then another pained groan followed by a cough and then a gasp of pain.

Certainly a bruised rib would hurt like that coughing.

"Hold on, I have something for your pain and that cough. You'll need your strength to fight the cold you undoubtedly caught laying god knows how long in that water."

"W...where am I ?"

Arthur turned around, fully surprised that the boy had not asked 'What are you' as a first question. However as he did, he was struck by a detail he had failed to check during his initial medical exam. The eyes... were glassy.

The boy was blind!

**o0o**


	2. Chapter 2

**Found a man washed up on the river. Chapter 1**

Based off an artwork piece of the same name by ~stupidlilgirl

* * *

_**Author notes:**_

_2/3 part._

_I am revising this story I have posted elsewhere on deviant art._

_I've never had a beta-reader or editor before. If any of you know how to get one or those things are done... please PM me! I need an english(1st language) person to correct my horrible french (1st language) mindset grammar._

* * *

**o0o**

The young man did not look around as a one normal normaly would. Craning his neck and staring wide with grey-blue eyes unfocused, his ears directed towards the middle of his benefactor's hut. He was not in the best of shape and not totally aware of his surroundings through the best of his other senses, namely touch and sound. The boy was barely able to shift positions to his side on account of the large wound to his chest and he most assuredly had a fever dulling both his concentration and equilibrium.

Arthur huffed, as only a centaur, who's lungs were larger than a humans to power huge equine muscles and frowned in self depricated frustration. How could he have been so careless and inconsiderate as a physiscian not to have checked the boy's eyes?

''Oh you're quite safe lad, in the best of care as well! I've made you a brew to ease that cough here.''

The half-horse half-man gently approached the other and fell to his front knees first before his hindquarters fell as well, sitting down for all intents and purpouses as a centaur or laying down as a horses, whichever fit best the description of a centaur lowering himself to an acceptable height to tend a wounded human.

His voice seemed to calm the other. However it didn't look like the other was completely satisfied with the answer.

''That's... fine and all... but where am I?'' The blonde subsconsciously felt around and encountered the woolen garment on himself, startling slightly yet continuing to feel around the hay bed. 'Stables?' He ventured a guess.

Arthur chuckled, he hadn't done much of it and he supposed it sounded odd, like a wicker for a human. For the blonde boy turned sharply at him with a look of concern at the entity now so close to him.

''Why... and I thought I had lost my manners what with so much time gone by since I've had any guests such as yourself. My name is Arthur, and that's my bed you're in. No pallet I'm afraid.''

The young blind man blinked towards him, frowning in what looked like a doubtful or confused look which was then slowly replaced by an expression of relief followed by tired acceptance. The man lay back into the pile of hay and seemed to collect his thoughts for a moment.

''M...my name is Alfred sir. Thank you very much for bothering taking me in.''

This seemed to be a sour spot for the other man. The centaur was observant. Alfred made a face and seemed to internalize something, a guilt ridden look crossed his face. Arthur set his cup of tea to the side and into the sand serving as his floor. Reaching for the other's hands, he brought the cup to touch the other's palm. When he touched the human, the lad flinched. However he propped himself up with a grunt of pain as the other touched the cup in his hand, the eyebrows that had been set in a weary expression lifted. It was warm and he could both feel a liquid slosh.

''Nonesense. One doesn't leave in good conscious another thinking being out on the banks of a river!''

The boy worded -in good conscious- but otherwise showed a great amount of trust as he brought the liquid offered to him by a stranger to his lips and took steady gulps.

''ACH!'' He coughed. Trying to stiffle the movements as he grasped his bruised side. ''This stuff is vile!''

His tail swished in annoyance. ''Of course it is you git! Medecine hardly ever tastes like roses and honey!'' He huffed again, loudly. ''Now drink it all up so you can get back on your feet. The sooner you're better the sooner you'll be able to leave.''

The glassy unseeing eyes blinked. The stranger turned silently inwards onto himself, holding the cup as if it were a child closer to his body. Arthur felt as if he had touched a sorespot and instantly wondered what had happened to this 'Alfred' boy to have washed upon the shores of Avalon and in the state he was in, he could only imagine.

''W...where would I go?'' The boy whispered, bringing the clay pot back to his lips and downing the rest of the medecine, making a face all the while.

''I suppose from wherever you were from?'' Arthur answered, taking his own neglected brew and sipping at the herbal tea, sighing appreciatively at the flavours of dried cherry, clover and rosehips.

Alfred turned the clay cup around in his hands, twirling it and holding the lip of the piece with his thumb pencively. Face flush in fever and breathy.

''Then you needn't had bothered to save me at all.''

Arthur's green eyes widened minutely and he set his cup down to take his guests' (for lack of a better term). Pieces of a puzzle were fitting into his ancient mind and he deduced the reasons for this stranger's arrival in Avalon. The boy was blind for one thing and had been beaten and thrown at sea for perhaps this reason. He had no place to return to. Which meant he was for all purposes exiled, if the circumstances surrounding the whole current situation.

''You were not born blind.'' He started, picking the other's interest right away. Proverbially hitting the target. ''Unable to pay your rent, or work your folk. with aproval of the townsfolk, found you becoming a nuisance and decided to be done with you. Is that it?''

The glazy blue eyes widened looking at a point over the immortal creature's.

'''How do you know I wasn't born blind?!''' The cup fell, rolling in the sand.

As Arthur reached to pick it up, the human caught his own and with fervant desire to be answered grasped them solidly. The face demanded answers and the Centaur was taken aback by his own heart beating solidly in his chest. He had not spoken with anyone in at least a few decades now and the contact was... odd.

''Why boy... I suppose it is because you've survived to adulthood that I made that assumption. In my experience most folk don't tend to raise or take care of their blind or infirmed.''

''Ah.'' Alfred let go of his hands and looked bashful. ''That's very true I suppose sir...''

The Centaur smiled and completed the act of picking up the empty clay pot, now covered in sand, to clean later.

''Would you like some real tea to wash out that bitter taste lad?''

''Yes, if you please?'' He answered politely to his benevolant host.

Alfred smiled shyly, not looking towards other. As the quadruped stood back up, the boy frowned but lay down and listened to the other go about making another brew. The man that had rescued him had been right, about everything. The only thing he knew was scholarly in nature. How to paint, read and transcribe documents. How was he supposed to do anything for the court when he had been struck blind, quite inexplicably out of the blue! Over a year ago, his vision began to swim, blur and darken. He could no longer make any shapes on a few months ago. Stumbling around. His cousins had gotten fed up with his uselessness and then... well...

Fighting back tears in his unseeing eyes, the boy tried to concentrate on other things. Like the noises his saviour was making as he fixed another tea. The warmth in his belly, the lowering of his migraine and the scratchiness of his throat seemed to have been dulled an numbed by whatever the stranger had given him. He couldn't feel but awed at the stranger's great knowledge of medicine. Being a 'former' scholar himself, he could appreciate these things. As he listened, something struck him as odd as Arthur walked around.

''Are you peg-legged sir? Like a pirate?''

Oh that sounded horribly blunt and impolite. He'd been told multiple times that he was the sort of loud-mouth who spoke his thoughts without thinking first. He did like pirates the thought of a pirate and with his lack of vision, his imagination was rather vividly creating scenarios. The other stopped working, then the shifting of clay potteries and setting of materials on table, the grinding of stones continued.

''Oh no, nothing like that boy...'' He left something unfinished and this just continued to spike Alfred's curiosity.

**o0o**

Alfred's fever worsened and day turned into night. The centaur had known that his unexpected guest would probably be in for a little bit of a rough patch for the nest few days before he became well again to travel. The shock of his treatment, the catching of cold washing up from the english canals to the bank of Avalon as well as his emotional state combined to create a rather nasty fever. The creature of myth and legend continued to tend him. Getting the half-lucid blonde man propped up long enough to consume fish soup and more herbal medicines or embarrassingly and bashfully relieve himself in a chamber pot the centaur would provide. While the man slept, Arthur would lay down beside him, lending his greater body heat to keep him warm during the night.

Alfred would mumble, sometimes in Anglisc*, sometimes in Latin (which the centaur understood fairly well). So the man would be either from the priesthood or a scholar perhaps both. As he tended him, the centaur become quite focused on the question of what to do next. It was obvious the boy (as he was so much younger than his own untold centuries in comparison), could not return to his community. The chances that he would be adopted by any other local or surrounding villages would be slim. The equine half-breed was now wrestling with the task of letting the man fend for himself with the very real potential result being his death. How could he ever be so cruel? Why would Avalon dump the lad onto his shoulders with the conscious result being that he would have to care for the human for the rest of its (albeit short) life.

Arthur sighed longly. His great lungs filling with air pushed the lightly somnolent boy to a more wakeful state. The fever past, he was much more lucid than in the last 2 days and some pieces of a perplexing puzzle seemed to click. Was that a horse sleeping with him? Why would anyone have a horse sleep in one's bed... since that had been what the stranger had mentioned the pile of hay he lay in was. The peg legs, the great herbal knowledge and the odd noises he made in irritation, exasperation or in laugh. His hands roved to the presence by his side, feeling the canon and knee of the forelegs of a horse.

''You're awake I see.'' The voice came overhead.

Alfred's glassy eyes shot wide-open. ''Are you a talking horse?''

Another whicker-like half-annoyed laugh, the rumbling movements of the horse-like being next to him confirmed its source.

''Something half-like that lad, but not as boorishly simple.'' While the voice sounded tinged with annoyance it also held a soft mellow humour behind it.

The blonde human's eyes remained large and full of awed wonder.

''A centaur?'' He guessed correctly.

''Atta boy!'' He clapped the blonde's shoulder softly and made to rise.

Gracefully doing so without squashing his newly recuperated ward, Arthur went to clean some dishes. He heard Alfred sit up in the pallet. Wondering what went on through the human's mind at the revelation he'd been tended by such a rare creatures.

''You shouldn't exist!''

He stomped a hoof in anger on the floor. ''Well I bloody well do exist don't I?''

''N...no. What I meant is... well. I thought you were a myth.''

''How is that any different from your prior statement boy?'' Arthur was rightly annoyed now, having stopped cleaning and turning to face the ungrateful blind man, his tail swishing in irritation.

Alfred was bitting his lower lip in awkward self recrimination and the centaur sighed once again. He calmed down, letting go of some of his spikes of anger one thread at a time. He knew his brethren's war-like tendencies ran through his blood easily and had become splendidly isolated to mediate on it. Trying to calm it and become more contemplative of nature.

''Look, lad. You seem young and healthy now and I've been thinking all the while tending you.''

It embarrassed the half horse-man to offer anything so permanent and kind. While he loved being alone, his own benevolent nature warred against leaving the blind boy stranded in an unknown human village to basically die once again.

''On account of you being blind and all... um... I can't in good conscious just bring you to the edge of the forest and dump you on a human settlement. I'm sure I could have you do steady things and work around my simple hut and all. What do you think of staying with me for some time?''

The boy's expression remained neutral, the glassy eyes inscrutable. A few moments later thought the young lad's face beamed like a sun at his offer.

''Oh yes sir! I would very much like to stay with you! I mean... I would be grateful. You're sure I wouldn't be a bother? And... and... all of that?''

Arthur semi crossed his hands and place one under his chin in reflection watching the young human boy's change from one of solemn resignation of death to one full of vibrant hope of life. It surprised him, the shift of moods, that humans could go through. His own were so mild and temperant. It might be interesting to have the lad around. Not so lonely, except for the occasional visit by his other mythical friends. Oh... that he would have to inform Alfred about. Seeing as how the bling blonde boy had believed centaurs to be a myth just a few moments ago. He would definitely worry and fret about unicorns, leprechauns and faeries flitting about.

''Lad, I wouldn't be offering this to you, if I would think of it as being a bother to me. Now, I have a descent meal set up and you should probably get some of this slop into that stomach of yours. I've feed you nothing but fish broth and herbs in the last 2 days. Come now. Better get used to my humble house.''

Alfred stumbled unsteadily up on both of his weakened legs. Naked under the overly large woollen overall which bothered the centaur not one iota. The boy's glassy blue eyes widened on feeling sand under his food instead of wood. Bravely extending unsure arms ahead and feeling eventually for the table.

''I must apologize for not having chairs. For obvious reasons. A barrel should suffice in this instance I believe.' '

Alfred could now place the odd steps of the man as the gait of a horse and not the hobble of an amputee. He felt ashamed that such a familiar noise would have baffled him before. He was able to convince himself that it was because of his relatively recent blindness and his feverish state that he was not able to have placed it before. He felt with his hands for the plate that the centaur; Arthur had set on the table for him. No utensils were present. How odd.

The quadruped returned with a short barrel and made him feel it by hand before placing it underneath him.

''Thank you sir.''

The centaur blushed, unused to any kind of interactions after centuries. Thinking on this, he now did wonder where the nation-being Brittannia had gone to. She hadn't visited him in a few decades whereas she was a steady visitor. The perceptions of immortal beings were not the same as for humans. Perhaps she had just gotten out of the habit of visiting him, or for some other reason was unable to do so. An immortal did not get quite as attached to other individuals. That did not mean that they didn't care of forget the acquaintances that they made.

The boy was polite company enough. A bit high-strung. Perhaps because of the easy life he led, what with the lack of any kind of callousness he had on his hands. Some ink tatoos on the tips of his fingers gave away some hints of prior training in the written word.

_'Dear lord and lady of the stars!? How am I going to deal with this!?'_ Arthur silently sulked.

**o0o**


	3. Chapter 3

**Found a man washed up on the river. Chapter 3**

Based off an artwork piece of the same name by ~stupidlilgirl

* * *

_**Author notes:**_

_3/3 part._

_I am revising this story I have posted elsewhere on deviant art._

_I've never had a beta-reader or editor before. If any of you know how to get one or those things are done... please PM me! I need an english(1st language) person to correct my horrible french (1st language) mindset grammar._

* * *

Arthur's worries about the boy were laid to rest in a matter of months. Once the surly lad was back onto his two feet, his former solemn dejection at his fate seemed to have been replaced by solid youthful vigor. Once he sensed the being was not jesting at his invitation to remain with him. Bumped blindingly (quite literally) everywhere with enthusiasm in his haste to be the most useful as possible as rapidly as he could.

The centaur's preparation for winter, while usually monotonous was now punctuated by infectious laughter. The air filled up with both pesky as well as stupendously ignorant questions on the workings of the natural world. Arthur supposed his amazment of the boy was due to either his own centuries of knowledge taken for granted, or the boy's sheltered living that made him ignorant of the living breathing world.

While the centaur lamented his meditative solitude at times, there were some benefits to having a ward... The horse brush was put to much better use in the hands of another than his own during his grooming. Even Uni seemed to agree, though the mythical one horned equine hardly needed it. Remaining supernaturally white and clean at all times. The boy, while blind, met creatures more fantastical and rare than most humans would have glimpsed while he stayed at Arthur's side. And more experienced in 3 months than a lifetime of scholarly studies.

The conversations were amazingly interesting, the boy was well learned in mathematics and the sciences. Humans had accumulated a great amount of information which he had no knowledge of. Alfred revealed himself to be the kind of human that was thirsty for new things and was intrigued by rather inane things.

Just the other day in fact a faerie had landed on his shoulder and he had stiffened in shock and awe. Refusing to move until the little thing found more interesting things to do than remained perched on the russet blonde.

"You are in Avalon lad and have the smell of a centaur on you now. Why would they ever be afraid of you?" Arthur answered the boy when he'd kept asking why that was.

"Things of similar natures rub off on other things eventually. Such is the way of many magical beings. Resonance or some such complex things that I, in my many years, have no full understanding of."

Alfred went so far as to ask him also why a unicorn would let someone so dirty as him touch it. The centaur had no answers to that. Uni was its own master and humans tended to like to lay down rules and regulations to things that were wild untamed and should never be read into as much, lest they take away the wonder.

The glassy blue eyes were roiling with deep secrets and mysteries as the ones he often asked about his mentor to reveal to them. Blindly, they asked of the old centaur more than the immortal being could ever be able to give. He felt it in himself. Even if they could not see him, they looked through Arthur and perturbed things

A storm was coming... Winter approached but would be thawed by spring.

o0o

He left the boy for 2 days in mid-autumn with plenty of forewarning once he was sure Alfred could get around properly by himself. Traveling to the center of the isle to meet its living host spirit. A yew tree of immense size, perhaps millenia old, father of all the others in the area. Its roots spanning the whole island permeated the glen which he hardly ventured into. The centaur, felt his own mortality in this place as he approached it. Compared to Avalon, he was but a child.

He needed answers from the elder. Clutching his chest, Arthur begged his questions.

"Why would you have let him wash ashore for me to find? When did immortality deprive me of living as the lad does? As if everything is wonderful and amazing and beautiful, even if he cannot see it. What do you want me to do with him. The way that he makes me feel... I know I will die when he does and along with it my knowledge." Arthur ruffled his hair in frustration.

If there were 2 things a centaur could not contend with was dying outside of a battle well fought or not transmitting the totality of their knowledge to another immortal pupil. Britannia, the nation immortal, had never completed her training with him. He was bound in a magical way with Alfred he could not understand, but felt it keenly.

Suddenly, a large amount of leaves fell atop his head gracelessly from the yew tree in its autumn shed. The message was clear. He was being silly.

Peeling the leave off of him he continued with what he perceived the spirit of Avalon was trying to convey. "I cannot love him like our souls yearn to. Not only is he mortal, but I'm not remotely human." His green eyes searched for answers of the yew, the glade, the wind. "That way cannot be."

The yew answered loud and clear. -rebirth-

Green eyes widened. As a startled horse, the centaur bolted from the glade. Afraid and deathly shaken at the clear answer. Spoken, not in the language of man. With more baggage behind the single word than Arthur could face at present. So he fled and said nothing to Alfred on his return. Sorrowful smiles unseen by the blind.

o0o

"Spring is finally in the air Arthur!"

The centaur stretched, rubbing his hands from soreness of having ground stone in the mortar for hours now. As he was sitting in the manner of a dog, he had to lerch violently forward to make his way to his young ward that had cracked open a window to look outside. The sun shone blindingly through the trees baren of leaves.

"So it seems. Your nose has gotten fine lad."

The human had some gifts. His memory was excellent and he got around perfectly well. Was self-sufficient in most areas and had gotten accustomed to the centaurs strictly fish and vegetarian diet. Respectful of the immortal's view of life's sanctity.

"HEY Horseman! Come along and show your face to an old friend!"

The female voice thrilled loudly crisp and clear in the air and the centaur, annoyed answered.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of a cow's visit?" Arthur yelled out through the window.

Alfred was extremely confused at the apparent hostility. This insulting banter went back and forth until he was introduced to Britannia. Apparently and old friend. The nation-being looked the boy up and down critically and the centaur shrugged at her critically questioning eye. She looked back confused towards the other immortal and the half-horseman mouthed 'Avalon'.

She huffed. "Survived the winter did'jee? Dear god boy! Glad yee didn't kill yee'self or the git through the yule's tide. Seriously, how in the blazes could you stand him?"

There was teasing affection in her voice and Alfred was actually quite infectious. Britannia became fond of him quickly.

OOo

"You got it bad for the lad, don'tcha boy?" The russet blonde woman wiped a stray bead of sweat brought up by summer's heat.

The centaur slapped her face with his tail in annoyance as they walked purposefully. They had talked about this...

"I'm not a boy. I raised you since you were a lass, don't patronize me."

Britannia was not at liberty to tell him that she was as old as the land he stood upon. While he had found her as a child centuries back, that had not meant she was not millenia old already.

"It be truth then. You say Avalon forced ye'hand?"

The centaur explained The isle's answer. Britannia blanched.

"That was my own reaction to the news."

The nation hesitated. "You know its hardly wrong. Ya could be together that way. It's easy for it to hold a mortal's soul as it naturally passes. Not so much for our ilk. It needs it sacrificed."

Arthur ruffled his hair again in both frustration of his situation and the answers he was given.

"Its offering you a promise of reuniting with him." She continued

"Yes but the price." His voice was resolved already. Stating fact and determination.

This summer Britannia had chosen to come back and forth between visiting her old friend and taking care of situations with her chosen people. She had lost a recent battle against the saxons and had mentioned she would fade in a few decades. The magic binding and supporting her unravelling, she had come to tell her closest friend and had found him contemplating mortality as well. She had witnessed her old teacher become more and more consumed and attached to his blind ward since spring. She would not taunt him with her own observations... That the young man seemed as enamored and in love with his mentor as he seemed with the human.

"I could repay you for those years of teaching ye gave me."

Arthur bit the bottom of his lip as he arrived at the glade. The yule seemed to breath in at his arrival. As if it had waited his arrival for longer than the span of a few seasons. It was risky. Extremely risky. So many things could go wrong with the threads of fate and those strings were so convoluted and complex that he even doubted Avalon could weave them correctly for them to meet again. But the joining of two souls in love, was a great gift and Avalon wished to repay him for the care of its citizens the centaur had tasked himself with for centuries already.

"Will you look after him for me?"

Britannia laughed. He thick eyebrows straightened in an affectionate maternal look.

"The chances are old friend... that he will be taking care of you until his last breath."

Immortal beings seldom cried. Arthur had only a handful of times. Yet he felt the trail of them on his face now. These tears where not of sorrow but of a life well-lived... Yet not having lived enough and fully. So full of yearning it made his skin crawl. As if he wore clothing to small for him to wear. Which was fitting really...

Avalon knew. It beckoned him with a gentle breeze and he lay underneath the tree. Willing himself, as a magical being only could, into the guiding embrace of Avalon. Dissapearing. Britannia herself shed her own tears. Her own legacy hung in the balance as well in certain ways. The tree had told her that these things as much. She would teach her teacher. Although he would not remember her as she did him.

Everything was connected, as the trees roots where with others. So were their lives.

o0o

Alfred heard the cries of a baby. Someone approached the hut and it unnerved him not to know who. A stranger? A castaway such as himself with an infant?

Nothing could have prepared him when Brittania presented him with a small child. His hands roved over the infant's face, memorizing it.

"Was it abandoned?"

Britannia shook her head before remembering the boy was blind. "No."

"Where did..." He asked by omission.

"He." She answered.

"Where did 'he' come from?"

The nation felt tired suddenly. A string had been cut somehow and a part of her people fell deaf to her hearing. "He's a gift."

"For whom? From whom" The blonde man asked, his arms slightly shaking at the unsettling tone of her voice.

"For you. By the world." She lay a hand on his shoulder, patting it and turning to leave.

Although to Alfred, it didn't appear by her mannerism like she would stay away for a long while. The blind man was confused and befuddled by so many things. This was certainly on his list of strange happenings.

"What is his name?"

She turned. Taking a deep steadying and calming breath.

"Arthur."

o0o

The boy both grew incredibly fast in one season, but then stopped growing once he reached the height of a 5 year old. Oddly supernatural. But in Avalon, Alfred was not surprised. He had remained this height for the last 10 years yet spoke eloquently often as a man of 20.

His fate preoccupied Alfred very much, as it didn't appear he would last more than another turn of the seasons. While he himself was only 30s, the condition that cause his blindness worsened. His head hurt constantly and he lost his balance and ability to maneuver without little Arthur's help. Feeling old and worn and tired, the boy helped him with day to day tasks.

The boy... Britannia had told him he was like herself. At first she had been calling the child Albion instead of Arthur. The lad would kick her whenever she did that. Eventually she called him by the name she'd presented him as to the blind man to raise. The child was easily irritated but also thought long on problems. Constantly awed at everything the isle of Avalon seemed to offer. Uni's appearances and the presence of faeries didn't phase the boy as much as they had Alfred. Who, now as a man, pondered on why the centau's friends would keep visiting even when he had obviously left so long ago.

This thought led him back to the boy that had lived with him for so many years. He needed to prepare him... Somehow. He felt within him something viscerally wrong. The room spun violently today. He was bedridden in the last week and it wasn't improving.

"Iggy..."

The boy shuffled to plop next to him as an answer that he as listening. He hated when his guardian called him that. However he didn't kick him because he was blind! Who would do that?

"When I'm gone. What will you do?"

He heard Arthur ruffle his hair while he pondered the meaning of his question. Something that reminded him so much of his old friend of the same name.

"Are you going anywhere?"

"I might. Very soon."

"Where?" The boy shifted. His voice filled with concern as he watched his guardian look off with unseeing eyes somewhere ahead of him.

"To a new-world."

"Then I'll come too!" The boy sniffed, he was obviously upset. Alfred wanted to leave?

The now older man turned to the strange not-child.

"Not now, maybe in many years you might."

He went to hold the small boy, he passed his hand on his face, feeling the large eyebrows and whispy locks of his hair. Well as the telltale signs of dewy tears that were forming on Arthur's face as he became more and more upset.

"You know... The faeries told me something once."

The green eyes widened. "They spoke to you? What did they say?"

The glassy blue eyes looked tired but hopeful. "They told me Avalon promised me Arthur would meet me in the new world."

The child looked confused. Truth be told, so was the man. The faeries sometimes spoke in riddles. If not at all. Whenever they did, it was wise to listen.

"Then I'll come and visit you in the new-world Alfred. I'm sure I'll find you even if its big!"

Alfred's smile was ful of pain but affectionate. The boy was sincere and said it with the love of a child had for a father. Whereas another Arthur long ago had spoken to him with the same hints of love in his voice for a father with a child.

He died in his sleep that night.

Arthur had cried.

Grieving the whole day until Britannia, a regular weekly visitor since Alfred had taken ill, found them both. She disposed of the body. Burnt it in a pyre along with the hut which the boy vehemently stated that he refused to live in anymore. He kept ranting about 'the new-world'. The nation thought nothing of it. She had little time. Carrying the ashes to the center of the isle with him, she insisted that he be the one to cast the ashes beneath the boughs of a gigantic yew tree he knew nothing about.

He trusted her since she was the only other person aside Alfred that he had ever known. Doing as he was bade and watching the ashes carried up in the wind past the glade and over towards the ocean.

His world was turned upside down when she introduced him to a whole new of stone buildings and paved roads. Of horses and metal and stinky markets that sold the meat of animals he had never tasted before. She introduced him to a man wearing the material called metal. She said he was his boss. A king. He never saw her again afterwards.

"What's you name?" Arthur had asked, rather impolitely.

The man had laughed and answered. He had also laughed mockingly and in childish copy-cating. Finding it both hilarious as well as irritating that the man had the same name as him.

"Little boy, Arthur is your true name. You should not give your true name to just anyone. In certain cases it gives witches and sorcerers power over you."

The green doe-eyed boy looked questioningly at his king. "The what should I be called then?"

The tall bearded man smiled. "The name of my kingdom, since you are the embodiment of it. Or so I have been told. England will be your name"

"England."

The boy turned towards the west and mouthed his name.


End file.
